


Fen & Mara

by ilse_writes



Category: Original Work
Genre: Don't date your father's enemy's son, F/M, Good vs Evil, Heroes, High School, It all happens in the fictional city of Howemont, Love, Modern Romeo and Juliet, Novella, Or daughter, Original Story - Freeform, Rugby, Superpowers, Teenagers, Villains, What if your father is a superhero?, What if your father is a supervillain?, teenfiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-12-30 14:11:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18316850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilse_writes/pseuds/ilse_writes
Summary: Teenage love is already complicated enough as it is, you don't need the whole battle of good versus evil thrown into that mix. Think Romeo & Juliet in modern age, with superpowers, heroes and villains. :-)





	1. Fen

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story for the Open Novella Contest on Wattpad this year. But don't let that bother you ;-)

It’s easy enough to climb over the fence; Fen lands gracefully on the other side of the seven foot high fence. The chains that are hanging from the waistband of his pants jangle softly, though that is the only sound that can be heard. The boy grabs the strap of his backpack and hoists it over his shoulder as he starts to walk in the direction of the grandstand that oversees the athletic field and the soccer field.  
It’s starting to get dark and the lights on the corners of the field have already come on, even though there’s nobody here on this sunday night. There was heavy rain this afternoon and the ground is wet and muddy. Fen jumps over a large puddle that reflects the lights in the dusk; his feet almost slide away in the mud, though he easily regains his footing. 

On the top row of the grandstand he can see two dark figures, only their faces visible in the blue lights of their smartphones. They only notice him when he takes the steps two at a time, the sound of his army boots on the metal steps bouncing off the sides of the grandstand.  
“Hey man! What took you so long?” the smallest of the two boys says, putting away his phone. 

Fen bumps the fist that is presented to him. “I’m here now, am I?” He flops down on one of the plastic seats. “Hey man,” he nods to the second boy. The boy looks up from his phone and looks him over from head to toe, a joint dangling from his bottom lip. He has pouty lips, almost like a girl’s and hazy blue eyes. Fen frowns, he doesn’t care for the way he’s being looked at.

The boy is a couple of years older than him and Nazreem, Fen guesses he’s about twenty years old. He’s wearing a fancy leather jacket and the phone in his hands is the latest model; he also has some fat bling around his neck and in his ears. He has short blond hair, carefully tousled with not a hair out of place. Fen and this boy are on the opposite ends of a scale when it comes to looks.

“Davy, this is Fen,” says the boy in the middle, gesturing from one to the other. The boy named Davy nods and focuses back on his phone. 

Fen unzips his backpack and takes out a six pack of beer. He holds one up to Nazreem, who immediately takes it.  
When he opens the can foam and beer runs over his hand and his grey jeans that are ripped in the knees. “Fuck, Fen! What have you been doing with these! Juggling?!”

Fen smirks when he thinks about his backpack’s short trip through the air when he threw it over the fence. He lets some air escape from his own can before opening it fully, preventing it from leaking all over his clothes. He can feel Davy’s stare and when he glances to the side the older boy nudges his chin to the can of beer in Fen’s hands. Fen rolls his eyes, though he passes the beer to the boy anyway. 

Naz has taken his phone out again and holds the screen up for Fen’s face. “Check this, man!” he smirks. “Wanna bet she’s gonna show me the rest before the night is over?” 

Fen sees a picture of a girl with bleached hair, wearing a white top with spaghetti straps. She’s not wearing a bra and pulls the top down between her breasts with a finger.    
“Nice tits,” Fen mumbles and opens a beer for himself. The Moroccan boy scrolls through the pictures on his phone; there are multiple selfies of the barbie blond girl. Or they’re pictures from different girls, that’s possible too. Naz has a type: bleached blonde, big tits and airheaded. Fen can’t keep them apart; Naomi, Daisy, Natasha, Angelique, they’re all one and the same.

Davy has passed the joint to Nazreem and after a few hits he offers the reefer to Fen. He holds his beer can up in defense. “No man, you know I don’t smoke.”

Nazreem laughs out loud. “Like drinking beer is helping you out on the field!”

Fen shrugs and drinks the last of the beer from the can. He squishes the can under his heavy boot and throws it expertly against the back of the sign that hangs from the roof of the stand; the clanging sounds echo underneath the roof as the empty can disappears somewhere between the lower rows of seats.  
‘Howemont Sports Club’ it says on the front of the sign, bold black letters on a yellow background. The plastic chairs on the stand are the same sunny colour: yellow and black being the colours of the city. The other day Fen was wearing the same colours during the rugby match; a yellow shirt with a broad black stripe across his chest, black shorts and yellow socks with two black stripes near the top.

Fen puts his boots up against the back of the seat in front of him, the plastic creaking alarmingly under the pressure. “Why did you stop coming to practice, Naz?”

Ever since Nazreem started at his new school he stopped coming to rugby practice. Fen has barely seen his friend this semester; Nazreem has new friends now, this Davy is one of them.

“Coach Fraser is a drag,” Naz says with a shrug.

“That’s your own fault for always showing up late.”

Naz mimics his words in a high pitched voice. “You should hear yourself! For a self proclaimed anarchist you’re suspiciously good at playing by the rules, buddy.”

Fen hears a soft chuckle from Davy, yet he’s more offended by his friend’s reaction. Nazreem and him have been friends since elementary school and they’ve played rugby together for years. “I only play by the rules when it comes to rugby, Naz. Only for rugby,” Fen says grudgingly. 

He pulls the hood of his sweater over his head; there’s a cold draft coming up from the narrow gap between the back wall of the stand and the last row of chairs. When he puts his hands in the pockets of his jeans vest his fingers curl around the black marker that’s always in there. He pulls the marker out and draws a slinking black cat in quick, accurate lines on the back of the plastic seat in front of him.

Davy leans over to get a better look at the cat in the limited light. “I’ve seen that one downtown before.”

“Fen’s work,” Nazreem smirks. “He draws them on every surface. Don’t fall asleep when he’s around! Last time I did that he drew one of those beasts on my arm!” 

“Could’ve been your face,” Fen mutters, finishing the cat’s tail. 

“Why a cat?” Davy has put his phone away, he’s holding a switchblade instead. With fluent movements he folds and unfolds the sharp knife over and over again.

“Fen is like a cat in a human body,” Naz answers again. “He has nine lives too.” He tells Davy how they were running from a shop owner once, after getting caught for stealing gum. “One of those dickheads in spandex was around and came after us. I found a place to hide, but Fen crossed Mainstreet. Next thing you know he was flying over the hood of a car, you know, like really flying! He fucking landed on his feet, not a scratch on him!” 

It’s a good story, though Fen doesn’t see the need for bragging to Davy about their childhood adventures. Besides, Naz is leaving out the little fact that they had to run because  _ he _ had overstuffed his pockets, leaving a trail of packets of gum.

At that moment, the beam of a flashlight travels over the grandstand. “Who is there?!” 

“Shit, the guard,” Fen hisses and he pulls his hoodie a little further over his head. Being the son of a police detective makes him a familiar face for every copper in town; even though this is just a night guard, Fen doesn’t want to risk being recognised. 

For now, the flashlight is trained on Davy, who is standing up and points his switchblade at the man at the foot of the stands.  
“Looking for trouble?” the boys asks menacingly and he swings his legs one by one over the seats in front of him, making his way to the stairs on the side. Davy carelessly flips his switchblade in his hand, slowly descending the steps.

The guard says something in his walkie talkie and the device crackles in response.    
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Fen says quietly to his friend, but Nazreem gets up too and follows Davy in his slow descent down the stairs. “Naz! What are you doing?” 

Naz ignores Fen’s urgent whisper and directs his attention at the guard instead. “You better fuck off, old man!”

Fen doesn’t understand why Naz is doing this. Back in the day they just ran off whenever they got caught, he has no idea why Naz suddenly decided to play tough. Running away still sounds like a good plan to Fen, he doesn’t want to wait for the guard to call the cops. If he hasn’t done so already.

There’s a wooshing sound and with a loud bang something - or someone - lands on top of the grandstand.  
“What’s going on here?” a dark voice booms from the roof. 

“Fuck!” Fen pulls himself up until he’s sitting on the backrest of his seat. He swings his feet over the edge and slowly lowers himself in the narrow gap between the seats and the back wall. Fen is hanging from his fingers when he sees the beam of the flashlight going over the back wall above his head; there’s at least ten feet between his dangling feet and the ground. 

“Where did that kid go?!”

Fen doesn’t hesitate and drops, rolling as soon as his feet touch the ground. The grass beneath the grandstand is long and wet, though that doesn’t bother him one bit. He swears again when he realises his backpack is still next to his seat on the stand. There’s no way to get it now, not unless he waits until the others are gone; yet leaving right now is a better idea. From the other side of the stands he hears loud voices and he can hear Naz cussing out the guard. 

Using the shadows along the edge of the playing fields as cover Fen makes his way back to the fence he scaled earlier that night. On the other side is his bicycle, leaning against a lamp post. 

When he unlocks the chain on his bike, his backpack suddenly thuds to the ground next to his feet.

“Don’t forget your bag,” a distorted voice says curtly. 

Fen slowly turns around to the figure in black behind him. The superhero is wearing a tight fitting suit; the stylized lion head on his chest stands out in the light of the lamppost overhead, as well as the yellow claw like markings on his wrists and shoulders. His mask has the same yellow markings, only smaller, and Fen can make an educated guess for the expression behind the mask.

“What’s the matter Lion Heart?” he drawls teasingly. “Since when does the great protector of the city care about some kids? Shouldn’t you be out catching the real bad guys?”

“You’re grounded for a week, young man! Now hurry home, your mother is waiting for you.” 

“But…”

“No but! Or else you can forget about rugby practice too. Go home. Now, Fen!”


	2. Mara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let me introduce you to the second protagonist: Mara Prince.

The white sliding doors are closed hermetically. Mara bashes the button again, the doors don’t move an inch. Even when she tries to pry her fingers in the narrow slit between the doors they don’t budge. On the wall next to the doors is an intercom with a buzzer; when Mara pushes the small button there’s a buzzing sound, yet there’s no reply. She presses again, twice, thrice. Only then she hears the voice of her father.    
“Yes? Who’s there?”

“Dad, it’s me. I can’t get in. Open the door!” It’s silent for a moment, only static on the line. “Dad!”

“Yeah, yeah… hold on.” With a click the static noise ceases.

Mara positions herself in front of the doors, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and back. Just when she thinks she has to ring the bell again there’s a metal click indicating the unlocking of the doors. She hits the button on the wall and finally the white doors slide open for her. 

In front of her is a long corridor, slanting down, with every step Mara disappears deeper underneath the house. Usually the sliding doors aren’t locked when Professor Prince is working in his lab; Mara can’t remember a time he locked her out when she came over for the weekend. 

At the end of the hall there’s another set of sliding doors, this ones are made of glass. Mara pushes the button on the wall and the doors slide open, giving her passage to the lab. She walks into a large white room, filled with the most amazing equipment. Xander Prince is standing with his back to her, hunched over a workbench in the middle of the room. Several screens hang from the ceiling, showing schematics and other technical drawings. Mara recognises the design for the XP703, the new robotic vacuum cleaner her dad is working on. Her father just clicks the shell back on the round robot when Mara approaches him. In contradiction to the other robot vacuums this one has a matte camouflage print instead of the usual shiny black or white cover. 

“Did the army order a vacuum cleaner?” Mara asks when she’s standing next to her dad. He’s wearing a white lab coat, like he always does when he’s working in the lab.

He shakes his head. “Inside joke of the design team. They’re calling the 703 our off roader.”

“An outdoor vacuum cleaner?” Mara watches the machine on the workbench incredulously, it reminds her of an armed cookie tin on wheels.

“No, though the 703 can conquer obstacles up to two inches high.” Professor Prince puts the vacuum cleaner on the floor, where it rolls once around his legs before setting course to the other end of the lab. Against the wall are a couple of black, flat boxes with blinking red lights. Docking stations, Mara knows well enough. The robot vacuums are programmed to return to their home base whenever they’re done with a job or when their battery runs out. Across the floor are some large electric cables, yet the XP703 earns up to his nickname. The machine lifts himself a little off the floor and rolls effortlessly over the chunky cables.

“Did you have a good run?” Mara’s father asks, collecting the tools he was using.

Mara nods. “I took a route behind the training fields. It was a good place to run. You really should join me some time, dad!” 

Prince shakes his head. “No, running is not for me. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to keep up with you, kid!” He ruffles her hair, making even more hairs come loose from her makeshift ponytail, and continues to put away his tools. 

Mara strolls through the open space. She is only allowed to come in the main lab, the other rooms are off limits for her. It’s because of keeping a sterile and dust free environment, her father explained it when she was younger. The only one who has unlimited access is Professor Prince, not even his assistants have full clearance. Besides, Prince works with his team mostly from a distance, via a high speed video connection between his home lab and the large Robotix labs on the other side of town. Her father owns a large share in the company that distributes his robot vacuums, yet he leaves running the company to other - ‘better qualified’, in his own words - people.

There are three large workbenches in the room, each equipped with screens hanging from the ceiling and robot arms on each end. One bench is empty, but on the bench in the back of the room is a project her father is working on. It’s not like him to leave his stuff out, so he must have been working on this before she came in. 

Curiously, Mara walks over to the workbench. She doesn’t recognise the plans on the screens; it’s not a robot vacuum, that much is clear. On top of the workbench is a small robot spider, or something that resembles the arachnid. The robot has a rounded body with eight metal legs that can move around freely. Mara lifts the little thing to look at the bottom; there’s some kind of lense there, otherwise the small globe is perfectly smooth. The legs are razor sharp and equipped with some sort of barbs at the end, something Mara immediately notices when she rubs her finger against it; one of the little legs snags her skin.

“Ow!”

“Serves you right for touching my stuff!” Mara had not noticed her father was standing behind her. With an angry frown he takes the metal spider from her and opens a large silver suitcase that was underneath the workbench. Inside are seven similar robots, each in their own little burrow in the foam interior of the suitcase. There’s one spot open and Professor Prince carefully tucks the little spider in. 

“What are those?” 

“Nothing.” Professor Prince shuts the suitcase forcefully and turns around to his daughter. “Remember the rules?”

“Yeah…” Mara sighs. “I don’t see or hear anything when I’m in here.” She was barely six years old when she made this deal with her father: she could visit him in his lab as long as she kept everything she heard and saw there a secret. Mara always kept her end of the deal, even when she was little. During the years she started to wonder why her father was always so secretive. He has the patent for the robot vacuums, which made the inventor rich; one workbench in a shed became a whole underground lab, hidden in the artificial hill underneath his villa.   

Yet little as she was, Mara couldn’t imagine that this kind of secrecy was needed when it came to cleaning robots. And sure, you could get rich from a well placed patent, though that didn’t explain her father’s wealth completely. As she grew up, she slowly understood more and more of what she saw in the lab and her father caught on to that pretty fast. The days of playing in his lab while he worked on his inventions were over. Nowadays Mara hardly ever visits her father in his lab, still, she was able to puzzle the pieces together: professor Prince is living two lives. 

To the outside world he is the inventor of the robot vacuum; a somewhat introverted man, living of the cheques of his invention, who selflessly puts his knowledge and facilities in the service of developing prosthetics for children in his spare time. Needless to say: the outside world adores him.

But the people don’t know what Mara knows: her father is also the criminal genius that shows up in the news on regular intervals. He sabotages government plans or steals valuable art pieces. The newspapers named him ‘Mastermind’ because of the brilliance of his heists, leaving the police with unsolved cases which they can only attribute to the master criminal because there is no evidence whatsoever. 

You wouldn’t say he’s a criminal when you saw him. He looks the part of the distracted professor, his thick brown hair often standing up because he runs his hands through it when he’s thinking. Though when you look at his eyes, you can see he’s intelligent, calculating even. He has a hard stare; whenever he was mad at her Mara found herself at the receiving end of that stare, it used to scare her when she was younger. His voice can be hard too, demanding. Those things stand at odds with the rest of his appearance, though Mara guesses most people just attribute the harder parts of his personality to his professionalism.

When Mara and her father step into the kitchen a little while later, they find Reginald and a whistling tea kettle. “Tea, sir? Mara?” 

A moment later Mara sits at the kitchen table with a steaming mug of perfectly made tea in front of her. Reginald is an original British butler, who has been working for her father for ten years already. His presence in the house meant that Mara could visit her father during the weekends, something that wasn’t possible before. Aunt Ruth had always said that Xander Prince was way too busy to look after a toddler by himself. It wasn’t until later that Mara learned that his wife’s death - her mother’s sudden death - left him with a severe depression. That’s why aunt Ruth and uncle William took her in; even after they had kids of their own Mara stayed with them and only visited her father during weekends. 

However, that had changed: the villa on the edge of the city of Howemont was her new home now. When uncle William got a new job with a large oil company, Mara had a choice: move with the family to Bahrain, or go live with her father. Even though Prince is secretly a criminal mastermind, he’s still her father.

Reginald’s voice hauls Mara back to the present. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

The butler points to a brown paper bag on the counter. “I’ve got you some notebooks and pencils. And the calculator you need.” He pushes a paper towards her over the table, with the logo of Howemont High in the right hand corner. It’s her book list, the items he already bought for her neatly crossed off. 

Mara takes the paper from him. “Thanks, Reginald. But I could’ve done that myself tomorrow after school.”

“You can’t start school without the proper materials,” he says, shaking his head disapprovingly.

The teenage girl chuckles because of his serious face. Reginald is very friendly and he is the living heart of the Prince household, though he is also very prim and proper with the typical stiff upper lip. Not a hair is parted the wrong way and you can draw him in a neatly pressed shirt with a burgundy or navy spencer on top. Mara suspects he always used to be eager for the moment the weekend was over, so he could clean off all the boogers and sticky fingers she had left behind around the house as a little girl. She has grown out of that gross behaviour, yet a sixteen year old girl in the house offers some whole new challenges for the butler.

“Are you looking forward to starting this monday?” Professor Prince is sipping from his tea, looking at his daughter from the side.

Mara shrugs languidly. “Nah. It’s far from ideal to start a new school this late. Everybody is already settled in.”

“You’ll be just fine,” Prince says and he pats her back awkwardly. “I bet you have some new friends in no time.”

“I  _ have _ friends,” Mara mutters. “They only live a three hour drive away from here.”

“All the more reason to make friends with people who live here!”

The girl rolls her eyes at her father’s practical answer. She’s not eager to start school tomorrow. Howemont High is the largest high school in town, and the best, according to her father. That’s why he enrolled her there, no questions asked.

 


	3. Local news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> News clippings and Instagram posts are as much a part of this story as the regular chapters.


	4. Fen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cue the 'meet-cute'

Someone bangs on his bedroom door. “Get up, Fen! You’re gonna be late for school!”

With a groan Fen turns over to look at his alarm clock. He’s got half an hour left to shower, have breakfast and ride to school. Good. That means he can stay in bed for another ten minutes. Unfortunately his mother doesn’t grant him those ten minutes, she’s already standing next to his bed to pull the blankets off him.    
“Get up,  _ vago _ ! Spring break is over!” [vago: lazy ass, Spanish]

When Fen enters the kitchen his father and brother are already having breakfast at the kitchen table. Vic just puts the last bite of his pb&j sandwich in his mouth.    
“Morning,” he mumbles with his mouth full, not looking up from the tablet in front of him. With one hand he scrolls through the news feeds, stopping every now and then to read more than just a headline. 

Their father does it the old fashioned way and reads the newspaper. His weapon holster is already buckled around his torso, although the holster is still vacant. Theresa Holt doesn’t tolerate weapons inside the house, no matter what kind of weapon it is; Henry only gets his gun out of the safe the minute he leaves for work.

Fen takes a seat at the table with his cornflakes. His father lowers his newspaper and looks at him with a frown. “Nazreem is making some wrong decisions lately. I can only hope you use your brain the right way.”

“Naz is okay, dad,” Fen mumbles, hunching over his breakfast. He doesn’t want to discuss his friendship with Naz, particularly because he knows his friend has changed the last couple of months.

“Hanging around with drug dealers is not okay in my book,” Henry says. When Fen’s eyebrows raise and come back in a frown, he gives his youngest son a scrutinizing look. “I can see you didn’t know that?”

Fen shakes his head. He didn’t know that, no. Maybe that Davy from last night is a drug dealer; it would certainly explain his expensive gear. Around midnight Naz had sent him a text to let him know he was home again. Him and Davy were taken to the police station, after Lion Heart had cuffed them to the grandstand in wait of the police. Naz was free to leave after a while because he is still a minor, yet Davy was in a lot of trouble for carrying a forbidden weapon. His friend is mad about Fen splitting on them; Fen understands that, though he also thinks it is Naz his own fault. If they just had left when that guard came, there wouldn’t have been any trouble!

“Buenos días!” Theresa Holt walks into the kitchen with a grocery shopper filled with empty egg cartons. “Boys, I wanna leave in ten minutes, so if you want a ride, you need to get moving. Or else you can ride your bikes to school.”

“What are you making, mom?” Vic asks curiously, pushing the tablet away from him.

“We’re reading from the book ‘I really want to eat a child’, so we’re making crocodiles!” the kindergarten teacher answers. She takes a green egg carton crocodile from the bag to show her oldest son. “Fen made a sample this weekend, isn’t that sweet?” She ruffles his long black hair lovingly.

“Mom! My hair!” Fen ducks away from his mother’s hand and cards his fingers through his hair to pull it back into his regular messed up mohawk.

Vic starts to chuckle. “Don’t worry, Fen. You’re still the spitting image of a skunk, just like every other day.”

Fen wants to lash out at his brother, yet he reigns himself in when he sees his father’s stern frown above the newspaper. He’s already grounded for the whole week, it’s better to lay low right now.

The two brothers are each other’s counterparts. Vic is tall and big, just like their dad, with broad shoulders and hands like shovels. His hairs are a warm chestnut colour, also like his father. Fen looks more like their Spanish mother, with straight, almost black hair and dark eyes. He’s tall like his brother, yet with a more lithe build. Their characters are opposites too, Fen is way more temperamental than his gentle brother. They do share their love for rugby: they play in the same team, with Vic as captain.

Ten minutes later the three of them are in the car; Howemont High is close to the school where Theresa teaches and she often gives them a ride to school in the morning. Vic turns his head to his younger brother in the backseat. 

“I’m quitting rugby,” he says out of the blue.

“What? Why?” Fen is flabbergasted: rugby is Vic’s passion and he never misses a game.

“I have to, Fen, you know that. What if someone gets hurt?”

“You can hold back!” 

“I don’t want to hold back when I’m on the field! I want to be able to give it my best, not think about running too fast or breaking someone’s bones in a maul. It’s better that I quit before something happens.”

Theresa lays her hand on her eldest son’s knee and watches her youngest in the rearview mirror. “We talked about it this weekend, Fen. It’s not an easy decision, but a contact sport is dangerous as long as Vic can’t completely control his powers yet.”

Fen crosses his arms in front of his chest and stares out of the window. His older brother has inherited their father’s speed and strength and now he gets older, he’s getting stronger and stronger. The team captain was already a strong player to begin with, but in the last couple of months he was really starting to dominate the field. The decision to quit rugby is understandable, but that doesn’t mean Fen likes it. 

“What are you gonna tell coach Fraser?”

“That I wanna concentrate on my finals. Coach always tells us to put school first anyway.”

That sounds reasonable, but Vic would be missed in the team and not just by his brother. Fen is deep in thought when he suddenly realises Vic is still talking to him. 

“Hm? What’d you say?”

“I said that maybe it’s gonna happen to you soon too,” Vic repeats patiently. “Remember? It was a week before my sixteenth birthday that I tore down that door.”

Fen chuckles when he thinks back to what happened. He stole his brother’s smartphone and had locked himself in the bathroom. Vic had torn the whole door from the frame when he tried to open the door. It scared the shit out of Fen, until he saw his brother holding the door, face white as a ghost and jaw unhinged. Within a few minutes they were both crying with laughter, holding their stomachs because laughing hurt so much. Their parents were less amused, mainly because of the damage to the door. That was the first time they realised Vic not only had his looks from his dad. 

Fen is not strong, no more than usual anyway. He’s fast and agile, although he argues that it’s still within normal limits. If you asked Fen, Vic is the only one who inherited their dad’s superpowers. And that’s okay with him. He doesn’t want to have a secret life on the side like their dad has.    
The youngest brother shrugs in response and glances at his brother in the front seat of the car. Vic smirks at him in the rearview mirror, silently telling him it will only be a matter of time.

“Bye boys! Have a good day!” Theresa waves at her boys from the window of her car. “Fen! You come straight home after class, you hear me?!”

“Yeah yeah,” Fen mutters as he throws the car door shut. The night before his mother was waiting for him when he got home, her arms crossed in front of her chest and a sour look on her face. She had lectured him about drinking beer and for hanging around on private property; mom didn’t say anything about Nazreem or Davy, she was solely focused on Fen’s lack of responsibility. That word was key in the Holt household:  _ responsibility _ . Take responsibility for your own actions and your place in the world; it surprised Fen the word wasn’t etched into his forehead by now.

Vic’s friends are waiting for him by the entrance to the school, hanging around on the steps to the doors. Fen saunters over to the side of the large building, where Harrison is sitting on a low wall, his cane resting against his leg as usual. 

“Morning, Harry,” Fen remarks as he lowers himself on the wall next to his friend.

The blond kid responds with a low “Yo” and reaches out with one of his earbuds. “New album of Hellcats. Released this saturday. Instant classic, man!”

The boys listen to the rock and roll music until the bell rings. Fen reluctantly gets up and waits for Harrison to hoist himself up too. “What class are we starting with by the way?”

“Mrs. Stewart,” Harry answers, putting his phone away in the front pocket of his jeans jacket that is almost completely covered in patches and buttons of hard rock and punk bands. Fen is wearing a similar jacket - without the sleeves - over his black hoodie. 

The boys walk through almost empty hallways, with here and there a student that is rushing to get to class. Mrs. Stewart her room is at the end of the hall, the first classroom next to the last row of lockers. The inside of the door is covered with a poster of a British phone booth, a clear indicator that their teacher hasn’t closed the door yet to start her class; as long as that phone booth is visible, they aren’t late. 

The teacher is waiting for them by the door. “Don’t be tardy, lads. Hurry up!”

“I’ll have to get my books first, Mrs. Stewart,” Fen calls out and he pulls his key from his pocket.

“Be quick about it, Mr. Holt.” The teacher follows Harrison in the classroom, leaving the door ajar. 

The hallway has lockers on both sides, three rows on top of each other. Fen’s locker is on the top row, one up and to the right of that of a girl who squats down to put some books from her bag into her locker. The moment that Fen wants to open his locker, she jumps up and bumps her shoulder hard into his elbow. 

“Watch it!” 

“Sorry,” the girl mumbles and she rubs her shoulder with a painful grimace. 

Fen slams his locker closed and hurries to the classroom, before Mrs. Stewart will write his name down for being late. He doesn’t want to add detention to his list now he’s already grounded. She frowns at him when he opens the door, but lets it slide. He quickly sits down in his spot next to Harry, at the back of the classroom. The door opens again and the girl from the hallway comes in, clearly self-conscious about entering their class. She has long, brown hair, falling over her shoulders in waves. Freckles spot her cheeks and button nose, making her look a little younger than she probably is. The girl is wearing a maxi skirt in a faded shade of orange and a black long sleeve tee with countless bracelets on each of her arms. 

“Miss Prince! Welcome! Take a seat, I believe there is a free chair next to Miss Halid.” The teacher points to the back of the classroom. “Mr. Holt, be so kind to retract those long legs of yours so the lady won’t have to run an obstacle course to reach her seat.”

Fen pulls his legs back with a sigh as the new girl takes her seat in the chair in front of him. She turns around to him and puts something on his table. “This one is yours, I believe.” 

A pair of startling green eyes looks straight at him, Fen stares back and forgets to breathe for a moment.  _ Fuck. _ She’s beautiful! On top of his book is his Hellcats button. He rips his eyes away from hers and gazes down at his jacket, to see an empty spot between his other buttons. The little thing must have come off when she bumped into him by the lockers. 

“Thanks,” Fen mumbles, but the girl has already turned her back to him and is quietly talking to Almera who is sitting next to her. He slumps down in his chair, putting his legs under the chair of the girl with the green eyes, pinning the button back in place. 

“Prince? Like that rich inventor? Is the new chick his daughter?” Harrison whispers at him. 

Fen shrugs, his eyes trained on the back of the girl in front of him. Just like everyone else in Howemont he knows professor Prince. The inventor lives in a villa on the edge of town, close to the training fields. From the looks of it, the rest of the class also knows about Prince’s daughter; the students pay more attention to the new girl than the instructions of Mrs. Stewart.


	5. Mara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mara is at school, meeting her new class mates.

Save for bumping into what turned out to be one of her new classmates, first period goes by smoothly. Her homeroom teacher Mrs. Stewart assigns her a seat next to a very chatty girl, making it easy for Mara to talk along. The girl is asking the usual questions, like her name, where she’s from and why she came to their school this late in the year.

“I moved in with my dad,” Mara answers quietly, keeping one ear open for the teacher’s instructions. It looks like they’re just starting a new assignment, another lucky event; she had already been lucky because her first class was literally twenty steps away from her locker, so she didn’t have to wander the building in search of the right room.

“Is your dad Professor Prince?” the girl who introduced herself as Almera Halid asks curiously. 

Mara just nods in reply, not really wanting to get in to it. She can feel the stares of her classmates, most of them not even trying to hide they are watching her with interest. It’s to be expected, you can’t start a new school without catching attention. Mara had already prepared herself for this, first times are always awkward, no matter what kind of first time it is. First days of school, first kiss, first time riding a bike, first night sleeping in her new home - even though she has slept there countless times when she came over for the weekends. All are awkward in one way or the other. Maybe it’ll be just an unpleasant first day, maybe it’ll be an uncomfortable week, either way, she has no other choice than just live through it. One minute at a time. 

“Miss Prince, have you studied Shakespeare at your previous school?” the teacher asks her, cutting off Almera’s whispers.

“We did, earlier this year,” Mara confirms politely. 

Mrs. Stewart cocks her head a little, giving her a small smile. “Well, maybe you’re lucky with this assignment then.” 

She proceeds to read of a list, assigning a different play or famous poem by the English playwright to every student.  
“I ask you to use the Oxford editions, they’re available in our school library as well as the city library. Don’t wait too long to get a copy!” she warns them with a stern shake of her finger.

Mara is lucky again: the teacher assigned ‘Hamlet’ to her, one of the two plays they discussed at her old school. The pages of the book are safely stored away in her mind, along with the assignment that came with it. Another convenience is that Almera has the same classes as her today, meaning she can rely on the Muslim girl to show her around school. 

She does so for the whole first week, claiming Mara would probably get lost in the many corridors of the old building without her guidance. Howemont High has grown a lot over the years, adding new parts to the school every time it was needed; meaning there are some staircases that will take you to the science classrooms on the second floor, but others take you to a completely different wing that’s not connected to the science wing at all. 

Thanks to her photographic memory Mara knows her way around the school on the second day, but Almera is fun to hang around with. She gratefully lets her new friend show her around the school.

Her new class seems nice too; everyone is getting along. Of course there are some cliques, like at every school. You have the jocks, the emo kids, the pretty boys, the theater kids, the nerds; you name a teenage subculture, Howemont High has it. 

Almera has introduced Mara to her friends, a bouncy group of girls who have made it their goal in life to talk each other’s ears off. Almera is maybe the worst one of them all; she is only silent when there’s food in her mouth. The young Muslim girl is always cheerful, something that her colourful outfits support. She coordinates the colours of her clothes to her hijab - or the other way around -, meaning she is wearing all purple one day and all blue, red or another colour on the next day. The other girls are just as preoccupied with their clothes or their looks; every other conversation is about fashion or makeup. Or handsome boys, that’s a popular topic too. The girls have a point system, which they are more than happy to tell Mara about during one of their lunch hours. 

“That’s Matt, he’s an 89,” a girl named Deborah - Deb for short - points out, her eyes eagerly following a tall boy who walks across the school cafeteria with some friends. Mara guesses they are in junior year. They’re all dressed somewhat the same; expensive jeans with a shirt, with either the sleeves nonchalantly rolled up to their elbows or the whole thing covered by just the right casual jumper. 

“An 89, that’s high, right?” Mara tries to remember how high the scores went. The girls had dazzled her with numbers, giving so much examples that her mind boggled.

“That’s very high, yes,” Deb confirms with a dreamy smile, following Matt with her eyes. 

“He’s handsome, he’s fit, he has his own car - a new one - and he doesn’t sleep around,” Almera lists of on her fingers. 

“Don’t forget the holiday home at the lake,” Deb adds excitedly. “Or that he has a younger sister who’s not a total bitch.” 

Mara snickers. “What has his sister got to do with anything?”

“It means you can make friends with her, to get to him,” Deb explains like it goes without saying that is exactly how you approach boys who are older. 

“Ah, I see,” Mara answers, barely hiding her amusement. “And does that really work?”

“Monica got invited to his party over spring break,” Almera says matter of factly and the girl in question smirks widely. 

“Any luck?” Mara finds the whole grading system a little ridiculous and Matt and his preppy friends wouldn’t get high scores in her book, but she’s happy to play along. The girls are nice to her and it’s good to have someone to sit with at lunch. 

“With Matt? No,” Monica giggles. “But he has a hot cousin!” The whole table erupts with laughter, no doubt every girl here already knows all about the handsome cousin. 

Mara asks for his score, but he is apparently not listed because the list is exclusively for boys who go to Howemont High. “There’s a real list?”

Almera starts to hold out her phone, before suddenly clutching it to her chest. “Can we show it to Mara, girls?” she asks cunningly, like it’s a big secret. The other girls at the table give their consent and Mara is shown a chart with a long list of names, each name followed by a bunch of percentages for each category. There are 25 categories, from hair to shoes and from sports to school grades and family assets. There is also a bunch of topics on which the boys can lose points, like smoking, being a playboy or for having no sense of style. Almera explains how every one of the girls can vote and the end result is an averaged score. It’s actually quite an impressive list, the girls have really put some work in it. 

Mara scrolls through the list, seeing only unfamiliar names. “I don’t know a single person on this list,” she says, giving Almera her phone back. “It’s kinda hard to know if someone deserves their 76 if I don’t have a face to the name.”

“I can show you our class,” Almera offers and starts tapping away on her phone. When she hands it back to Mara, there is a much shorter list left. She recognises all of the names now, her perfect visual memory easily providing her with a face to each name. 

“Kendrick is only a 13? Ouch!” 

“That boy just reeks,” Deb exclaims with an upturned nose. The others wholeheartedly agree, making some snarky comments about his outdated clothes and his weight.

“Maybe he comes from a poor family?” Mara tries, feeling a bit bad for judging someone she has only met this week. She’s not a fan of the boy either, though maybe there’s an explanation for his shoddy appearance. 

Almera huffs and points to a girl a few tables over. “See the blonde with the blue top? That’s his sister. Nothing wrong with her, she’s always dressed well and at least she showers every day. Kendrick just doesn’t care or something.” 

“Besides, Kendrick is an asshole,” Deb adds. “And he smokes.” 

“Okay, point made,” Mara agrees easily, not wanting to delve into it too much. She scans the list; most boys in her class score between 50 and 70 points, with some of them even reaching 75 or 80. Marc has 78, just like Yusef. They both score high in the appearance categories and they rise higher in the ranks because they play sports. The highscore is for Andrew, Mara is a bit puzzled about that one. “Isn’t he…?”

“Gay as a rainbow? Yes,” Almera smiles. “Other than that, he’s pretty much perfect!” 

Mara can only agree with that, the boy is down right pretty and he has a very good sense of style. He’s nice too, he was one of the first boys to come up and talk to her between classes. She continues to scroll through the list, taking in the scores of her male classmates. She doesn’t know them that well, her impression of them is based mostly on looks and the short interactions she had with them this week. There are some boys who stand out because of their appearance, like Fen with his floppy mohawk and his dark eyes, or Harrison with his walking cane and the earphones that seem to be permanently attached to his head. They are both ranking in the middle, Fen scoring a bit higher than his light haired friend because he has some good points in the sports department, contrary to Harrison. They both score high on personality, making up for the loss of points when it comes to their looks. Mara thinks back to Fen’s dark eyes, which she had caught more than once this week - the contact short, yet always ending with a smile on both sides -, if she would be voting the tall punk kid would end up higher on the list.

After a few minutes Mara hands Almera her phone back. The girls have already moved on to another topic, the proximity of the weekend sparking up talks about their plans; most of those plans involve shopping. Mara just goes with the flow; she’s not really that interested in fashion and makeup,but the alternative is talking about her father. Anything beats talking about him. 

Literally everyone she met this week is asking about her father. Or their butler, that’s also a hot topic apparently. Even the teachers want to know all about the daughter of the famous professor Prince. Mara is already sick of talking about her father, although she knew the subject couldn’t be avoided. She had hoped the kids in her class would be tired of it after the first two days, yet the topic rears its ugly head time and time again.

There it is already. Monica is the one to bring her father up this time. “Hey, is it true your father is dating that talk show host?”

Mara knows who the girl is talking about. Veronica Johnson, columnist at the local newspaper and host to the weekly talk show on local television. She’s a bit of a star in Howemont, notoriously famous for her controversial opinions on superheroes. Veronica is no fan of the ‘masked vigilantes’, as she calls them. And yes, her father is probably dating the woman. Not that he has introduced her to his daughter yet and if it’s up to Mara that day can certainly wait. 

“I don’t know… I don’t care either. He can date whoever he wants, as long as he doesn’t bother me with it.”

“Ugh, I know what you mean,” Deborah backs her up. “My mom makes a point of introducing me to every man she dates. She wants me to know who she’s hanging out with. Who cares, if they are gone after six weeks again?!”

The topic makes the girls forget about Mara’s father for the time being and they are soon back to discussing their plans for the weekend. Mara’s plans aren’t that big. Her first week here has taken its toll on her; she’s looking forward to some peace and quiet, maybe some running, complemented with long Skype calls to her friends in her old town. And she’ll have to work on Mrs. Stewart’s assignment. 

Mrs. Stewart is her home room teacher, they start every week with her class. Mara is under the impression that the woman cares about her students, despite being very strict in class. At the end of her first week she reaches out to Mara when she sees her by her locker after her last class to ask about her week. She is also one of few people who doesn’t ask about her father, a big plus in Mara’s book. 

The teacher gave them a big assignment in Mara’s first lesson: in two weeks they have to analyse a play from Shakespeare. Every student has been assigned a different play; Mara got lucky, because she has to analyse ‘Hamlet’ and she already discussed that play at her last school. That assignment is going to be a piece of cake; all Mara has to do is rewrite her old assignment.


	6. Local news




	7. Fen

The new girl is the talk of the class, the whole week long. She’s even the talk of the school the first couple of days, with her father being one of the few national celebrities Howemont has besides the superheroes. 

Fen hasn’t talked that much to her yet, besides some meaningless chit chat about their lessons when they were in class. She’s in the seat in front of him for English and she’s sitting next to him at the large workbench for their lab period. Their science teacher likes to have even numbers at every table and his table was the only one with an odd number. For most of the other classes she has found a spot with Almera and her friends, sometimes close to his seat, sometimes on the other end of the classroom. Not that Fen would tell anyone he knows exactly where the new girl sits in every class he shares with her.

Harrison catches him staring during History, though he doesn’t say anything. His friend just raises one eyebrow pointily, silently letting him know what he thinks of paying attention to someone who isn’t in a rock band. Fen only shrugs; it is more pleasant watching Mara than watching Mr. Humrick, their History teacher. The guy looks like he could keel over any second, with his sickly yellow skin and boney limbs. He sports one of the worst comb overs Fen has ever seen, the long hairs coming from just above his ears in a failed attempt to cover his bald skull. 

While Mr. Humrick discusses the answers of their homework, Fen’s eyes wander across the room, catching on Mara’s profile shortly before moving on. He does that a couple of times, until he suddenly stares into her green eyes. She has turned in her seat to grab something from her bag and now she caught him looking at her. Fen flashes her a smile and focuses his attention back on the front of the class, hoping his reaction was casual enough.

Fen ignores Harry’s stare again when he helps Mara set up her Bunsen burner during their lab period on friday. It’s a ratty old thing, but it still works if you know how to tweak it; which the new girl obviously doesn’t know. Her lab partner Monica is no help - the girl is practically failing the class -, so Fen doesn’t think he’s going out of his way to help set up the equipment. Mara is skilled enough to do the assignment without any help after they get the Bunsen burner going; Monica is visibly perking up when she sees how good her new lab partner is.    
“You must do this kind of stuff all the time with your dad!” the girl says as she watches Mara measure off the right amounts for the solution. 

The annoyed sigh that precedes Mara’s answer doesn’t escape Fen, though Mara’s words sound friendly enough. “My father is more of an engineer than a chemist.”

“I bet you never have to vacuum your room,” Monica chats on, leaning her elbows on the table while Mara does all the work. “I can totally imagine a whole army of vacuum bots in your house!”

Mara doesn’t answer to that, focussing on the assignment instead. “Can you hand me the Erlenmeyer?”

Her labpartner blinks non-comprehensively. “That flask in front of you, Monica.”

“Oh, right!” The girl hands Mara the glass flask. “Is the butler in charge of the bots?”

Now it’s Mara’s turn to look puzzled, before she understands that Monica is still going on about the vacuum bots. “No, there was a rebellion,” she says with a heavy sigh. “The vacuum bots have taken over the house. I’ve lost all my socks and now I’m afraid to go home.”

Her joke is clearly lost on Monica, yet Fen can’t help but chuckle. Harry can also appreciate the dry sarcasm. “Don’t you hate it when they do that,” he comments stonily, filling up their own Erlenmeyer flask.

“I know, right?” Mara says, keeping her eyes on her work. “Now I have to negotiate with the rebel leader for the release of my socks. That is gonna be such a drag!” 

“Maybe you can offer them some dust bunnies in return,” Fen offers, taking part in the supposedly serious conversation.

“That could work,” Harry agrees. “If you’re short on those you can always check Mr. Humrick’s classroom.”

They continue to make up ways to placate a rebellious army of vacuum bots, with Monica now also catching up to the joke. Fen bets Mara prefers this to talking about her father. He can understand a little what she is going through; in elementary school his classmates couldn’t shut up about his father being a cop. Something like that gets old pretty fast.

 

*** 

 

That saturday Vic and Fen are riding their bikes home after a friendly match against the team from a neighbouring town. When Vic told coach Fraser he wanted to quit rugby, they agreed he would keep playing with them until the end of next month. His brother also told the team he is leaving after the game this morning. Everybody reacted stunned, most of their teammates don’t understand why Vic is leaving. And how can they, when he can’t tell them the real reason?

“So… that went well…” Fen drawls sarcastically, raising his eyebrows when he looks at his brother riding next to him.

Vic looks at him from the side, biting his lower lip thoughtfully. “That downright sucked,” he says eventually.

“You can say that again,” the youngest brother confirms, his eyes fixed back on the road. “One of many reasons why having powers sucks.” 

They ride on in silence, until Fen can’t stand it anymore and looks to the side again. Vic is watching him with a frown. His big brother is judging him, he knows that well enough. 

“You really think that way?” 

Fen grips his handlebars a little firmer, stretching his arms. “I fail to see the appeal,” he grits out. “The double life, the secrecy…”

“It has its downsides, yes,” Vic admits, “but it also gives you a purpose. I’ve always wanted to help people, now I have the means to really do that!” 

“You can help people without having superpowers,” Fen scoffs, starting to swerve around the white stripes in the middle of the road. It’s lunch time on a saturday, there are hardly any cars around in this part of the city. To their right is the gated community where all the richest people of the city live, Professor Prince his house - Mara’s house - is there somewhere too.

“That’s true,” Vic says, staying out of the way in case Fen swerves too wide. “The superpowers are a nice bonus.” 

Fen snorts angrily, the subject is getting on his nerves. If he has inherited some of his father’s powers, they could hit any time now. Henry Holt was 17 when his powers started to show themselves for real after two years of extreme grow spurts; Vic was barely sixteen when it started. His brother was right last week: Fen has the right age, for all he knows he could wake up tomorrow and have his world taken away from him. To Fen it’s like having superpowers means you have to chose a side, as if he would have a choice at all. With his father being one of the most important superheroes in the city, he’s almost certainly expected to follow in his footsteps. 

The superheroes are not the only ones who have superpowers. There are some villains too of course, and regular civilians. The last group often doesn’t have really impressive powers, the powerful ones are being roped in by the government as soon as their powers show. Yet Fen suspects there are some powerful people out there that are hiding from the government; he can’t imagine every human that is gifted with powers to be willing to fight evil. Surely there must be some that prefer a quiet life, or that simply don’t want to be told what to do by the government. Having powers isn’t a choice, though what you’re willing to do with those powers should be!

There are some websites and forums online that argue in favour of more free choice for the people with powers, though everyone is keen on staying anonymous. If you have powers and don’t want the government to know, you have to keep your identity a secret. The same goes for the people that took on the role as superhero, they have to keep their real name a secret too. Secrecy all around, it’s a freaking conspiracy!

At home, Fen chucks his bag in the laundry room and throws his dirty clothes in the hamper. Vic does the same, the boys have learned long ago they’ll have to show up for the next game in dirty shirts if they don’t. 

He finds his mother in the kitchen, preparing a pot roast for tonight’s dinner.   
“Hi boys,” she greets them. “You hungry? I made chicken enchiladas for lunch.” The petite woman gestures over to the table, where the mexican treats are stacked on a dish. 

The brothers attack their lunch, hungry from the game. Theresa Holt knows to make extra portions of everything, she’s used to feeding her hulk of a husband and their growing boys. 

After wolfing down his lunch Fen puts his plate in the dishwasher before throwing an arm around his mother’s shoulder. At 16 he is already a whole head bigger than she is, Vic towering even more over her.

“Mom? Am I still grounded?” he asks, the plea clear in his voice. 

“Why? What do you want, niño?” his mother responds knowingly, grating cheese on top of the pot roast. 

“Nothing much. Harry asked if I came over.” 

His mother covers the pot roast with some foil and hands it to Fen to put in the fridge. “Maybe Harry can come here?” 

“He has to watch his sister, his parents are away for the weekend,” Fen answers. It’s not even a lie, Harrison really has to watch his 13 year old sister.   
" I can sleep there, if that’s okay?” He innocently bats his eyelashes at his mother, making faces to make her laugh and give in. 

It works. “All right. On the condition that you do your homework before you go over,” she says, receiving a loud kiss on her cheek in return.   
“All of it!” she yells after her son warningly as he runs up the stairs. 


	8. Mara

It’s wednesday afternoon and Mara has already discovered that this is the best part of the week. Together with some classmates she walks to the hangar next to the school for her Tech Ed. class. She’s the only girl of her class that chose this, all the other girls have chosen other classes like Theater or Environmental Science. There are some girls in Tech Ed. from other classes, but Mara doesn’t know them yet. 

Harry and Fen are walking in front of her, shoulder to shoulder, each with one earbud in their ear. Fen has adapted his walk to Harrison’s limping gait, making the boy’s cane seem like just another accessory. He has decorated the walking cane in a way similar to what he does with his clothes: the whole thing is covered in stickers from bands.    
They are always sitting together in the back of the class, forming one silent front. They look a lot tougher than they really are, Mara suspects; Fen is looking especially edgy with his dark eyes and his dark head of hair with the shaved sides. 

The boys don’t really interfere with what happens in class, which means they also haven’t sought out Mara that much outside of their classes. Mara doesn’t mind, because even though the attention of her classmates comes from a good heart, it can also be annoying. She underestimated how much influence her father’s fame would have. It’s like no one really wants to get to know her, they all see her as ‘the inventor’s daughter’. Almera and her friends may not ask that much about the professor, they sure are curious about the butler and the big house; they’re practically lining up to come home with her to study. 

That’s why Mara has tried to go sit near Harry and Fen during classes, if possible. They’re always talking about music, Harry can go on and on about his favourite bands and new releases. They also talk to her, about school and other mundane stuff; it’s a breath of fresh air after all those questions about her home situation.

Mr. Muller, the Tech Ed. teacher, doesn’t need to assign jobs anymore; every student knows what he or she has to do. There’s a group making backdrops and props for the theater club, there are old bicycles to fix so they can be sold and there are mechanical appliances to be repaired. And if you think of a good project yourself, you can do that too. Mara loves the amount of freedom they’re getting. 

Last week, when it was her first Tech Ed. class, she mainly walked around and watched what the others were doing. A group of boys from one of the other classes is working on a classic motorcycle. They have taken it completely apart and Mara observed how they organised all the parts in different boxes. 

Today she wants to pick up a project for herself; Mara is standing in front of the low shelving unit with broken down appliances, looking for a fun repair job. On the other side of the shelf are Harry and Fen searching for their paint supplies; they’re working on a backdrop for the new school play. 

Mara hears them talking about their English assignment, Fen is grousing. “There is not a shred of Shakespeare left in the library, every book is signed out.”

“Have you tried searching online?” Harry asks, stowing paint cans in Fen’s waiting arms.

“I did. Either there are parts missing or it’s not the right version. I don’t have shit!”

“Which play do you need?” Mara asks curiously.

Fen looks surprised, like he had not seen Mara standing there. “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” he says slowly. “Why?”

“My dad has a book with a collection of Shakespeare’s plays. You can use it, if you want?” Mara offers him. “I’m already done with the assignment.”

“Oh! That would be great! Thanks, Mara!” Fen perks right up. “Can I pick it up this afternoon? If I don’t start tonight I won’t be able to get it done before friday.”

“Sure, no problem.” Professor Prince has a large library, Mara has used his books more often for school. Surely she can lend one to her classmate. 

Fen frowns a little, something Mara knows he does when he is thinking. She has seen enough of him to know his face is easy to read.   
“I have practice this afternoon. Is it okay to drop by after that? Around six?”

“Sure. I’ll look up the book for you.” Mara tells him her address and Fen thanks her again for her offer. The boys walk to the other end of the hangar, Fen with his arms full of paint cans and Harry carrying a toolbox with paintbrushes and other paint supplies.

When Mara takes an old slide projector from a shelf, the teacher walks up to her.   
“If you get that one working again, you’ll make our geography teacher very happy,” he says. “He likes to show his travel pictures the old fashioned way.”

“I’ll give it a shot,” Mara answers, turning over the projector in her hands.

“Are you good at fixing things? I bet you are, with a dad like yours! You probably took appliances apart for fun when you were little.”

Mara mumbles something intelligible. No matter that he’s right, she’s really not in the mood to talk about her dad again. Unfortunately her teacher doesn’t catch the hint and just keeps talking.   
“Your dad has an underground lab, right? Right beneath the house? I’d love to see that, I suppose Prince has way more advanced tools than we have here at school.” 

Mara interrupts the man before he can ramble on. “Where can I find a small screwdriver?” She inspects the screws on the slide projector. “A Phillips head.”

Mr. Muller shows her where she can find all the tools she needs and Mara takes her project to a free workbench. She has just taken off the top of the projector when a boy from another class comes to stand next to her. He introduces himself as Lennard and offers to help her. Mara agrees reluctantly; she would rather do it by herself, yet she doesn’t want to offend him by declining his friendly offer. Besides, most of the kids in class work in pairs or small groups on their projects.

The boy tells her his dad is an electrician and that he helps him during summer breaks.   
“I’m kind of like a jack of all trades,” he boasts before he starts telling a boring story about rewiring an old house, meanwhile opening up the plug of the projector. There are some loose wires and in no time he has fixed them. 

He has certainly done that before and he could prove to be a good help, though he has a very nasal voice and Mara finds his body odour way too penetrating. He also has a way of standing in her personal space, or reaching too closely to get another tool from the workbench. Mara goes to stand on the other side of the workbench to be out of his reach. That doesn’t keep the boy from talking, everything in the same monotonous drone. 

Mara discovers a malfunction in the slide transporter and she’s tries to find the source of the problem. She’s barely listening to what Lennard is saying, until she notices that he’s talking about her father.  _ What the hell?! _ As if there is no other subject in the world to talk about!

“... that would be so cool! I really admire his work! My eight year old cousin has a prosthetic that was designed by your father. Hey, would it be okay to drop by your house some time? Maybe you can show me his lab?”

“Can we  _ not _ talk about my fucking dad for a second?!!” Mara slams the pliers she was holding on the workbench; the tool knocks the plastic top of the projector on the floor, the sound loud and obvious.   
Suddenly everyone in the hangar is silent and looking at her, Mara can feel their eyes drill holes in her back. Tears well up in her eyes.   
“Don’t you have something better to do?!” she shouts at her fellow students.  
Mara immediately regrets letting go like this, but the damage is already done. From the corner of her eye she sees the teacher coming her way.   
“Leave me alone!” 

Mara storms off to the exit on the other side of the hanger. Tears cloud her vision and she knows everyone must be staring at her. She slams the door closed behind her with a bang, stopping in her tracks to lean forward with her hands on her knees as soon as she’s outside. Her breathing is rushed and her cheeks are suddenly wet with tears. Mara quickly walks around the corner of the hangar, where she can stand out of sight. There’s a large pile of scrap wood there, with just enough room left to walk alongside the hangar.

She leans her back to the metal wall and wipes her tears away. Well, that couldn’t be any more embarrassing: a full blown meltdown in the middle of class in her second week of school! Mara kicks the metal wall behind her; she’s angry at herself, though she also hates how everyone keeps bugging her about her father.

“Mara? Are you all right?” Fen is standing at the corner, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his worn down jeans vest. 

She can feel her cheeks heat up and angrily wipes at her eyes again.   
“I’m okay,” she says quickly, hating how unconvincing she sounds. You can totally hear she’s been crying,  _ hell _ , she’s still crying!

Without saying a word Fen strolls over and stops next to her to lean against the wall like she does. She expects him to start talking, but he doesn’t. He’s just there, tall, dark and silent. 

“It’s just…” Mara starts, to fill up the void. “Not fair. And shitty. I am my own person! But no, all they can talk about is _ professor fucking Prince _ , like I don’t even exist! And they all want to come visit!  _ To see the lab _ . Oh, and the fucking butler. Him too.”   
Mara is spitting the words out, angry and sad at the same time. She glances over to the boy next to her; he is quietly listening to her, his pierced eyebrow raised a little.   
“Like it is any fun to have a famous dad. He’s always working, leaving me in an empty house with a butler with a stiff upper lip who thinks the Rainbow Road  is a brand of cookies.”

Fen chuckles. “Rainbow Road?”

“Yeah, you know, Mario Kart,” Mara rambles on. She can’t stop talking, the words keep tumbling out of her.   
“You have to do  _ something _ when your friends all live far away. It’s not like I’m building robots with my dad all day every day, although that is what everybody seems to think I’m doing and…”

“Come here,” Fen suddenly says and he pulls her against him, effectively shutting her up. 

The boy is like a foot taller than her and caught in his unexpected embrace Mara suddenly finds herself up close with the metal studs on the shoulder parts of his jacket. Fen pulls his vest to the side to get the pointy studs out of her way and wraps his arms firmly around Mara’s shoulders again. 

His hoodie is soft against her cheek; although she was startled by his abrupt action, Mara can feel herself relax against him. She inhales and exhales deeply a couple of times and as a spur-of-the-moment thing she lets her arms slide around his waist, underneath his jeans jacket. Fen doesn’t react to it, he just keeps holding her against him, his warm breath in her hair. 

After what seems like an eternity or just a few seconds he lets go of her, although his hand lingers for a second on her lower arm.   
“Better?”

Mara nods shyly.   
“Thank you,” she says quietly, slowly looking up to the tall boy in front of her. 

Fen smiles and winks at her. “Come on, class is almost done. I have to help Harry clean up, knowing him the paint is everywhere but on the backdrop.”  
Fen walks her back to the hangar and holds the door for her. “Ladies first.”

Inside he paces over to Harry, who is collecting the paintbrushes they’ve used. On his cheek is a blue smudge and the floor is also stained with paint. Mara hovers near the door, she doesn’t want to face Lennard again. Besides, she sees he’s already putting the parts of the slide projector in a crate, he probably doesn’t need help with that. 

“Here, would you mind cleaning these?” Fen shows up next to her and hands her an old tin can with a couple of used paint brushes. It’s like he knows she doesn’t know what to do with herself, Mara is grateful for him giving her this little job. 

By the sink Mr. Muller comes to check up on her. “Feeling a bit better?”

“Yes,” Mara nods. “I’m sorry I made such a scene.”

“That’s okay,” the teacher says gently. “We all have our bad days.”

After class Mara walks back to school with the other students. Her father is standing by the gate, his black sports car parked on the curb. He waves at her as soon as he sees her and starts to walk back to his car.   
Mara turns around to say bye to Fen and Harry, Fen puts his hand up in response. 

“See you this afternoon!”

Mara jogs over to her father, avoiding collisions with other students who rush out to catch the bus. The engine of the sports car revs impatiently when Mara comes up to the passenger side. She gets in with a sigh, pushing the button to close the door. If there was anyone left at school who didn’t already know she was professor Prince’s daughter, they are sure to know it now; a shiny black sports car with gullwing doors is hardly subtle. 


	9. Local news




	10. Fen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rugby, roti and Mario Kart.

Heavy rain has transformed the training field in a mudslide. Coach Fraser instructs his team to practice tackles and in no time every player is covered in mud. After a maul by his brother Fen even has mud in his ears and his long black hair is hanging from his head in dirty strands. Vic’s hair is also caked in mud, just like every other boy on the field; they don’t mind, it just adds to the fun. After practice the whole team makes a giant mudslide, splashing their coach with a wave of brown water. 

Currents of brown and black water flow to the drains in the showers. Most boys don’t bother undressing before they hit the showers; Fen also doesn’t strip his clothes off until he is in the shower. The hot water slowly cleans him and gets rid of the chill in his bones. 

“Hurry up, Fen! I’m hungry!” Vic calls out. The large blond team captain is already waiting by the door when Fen still has to get dressed. 

“You go ahead. I have to pick up a book at Mara’s house first.” Fen twists his wet hair up in a small bun to keep it from dripping down his neck. 

“Picking up a book? Is that what the kids call it nowadays?” Marc, one of Vic’s friends, smirks at him. “Got yourself a girlfriend, Fen?”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Fen mutters, but it’s too late.

“He’s found himself a rich chick!” Vic agrees with his buddy. “Mara’s dad drives a slick sports car.”

“Mara? Is that her name? Are you dating Prince’s girl?” Marc wolf whistles hard. “She’s pretty hot! How on earth are you able to tap that, Fenny boy?!” 

Fen throws a shoe at his tormentors, though they easily evade the projectile. 

“Have fun, Fen,” Vic says with a wink when he leaves the locker room with Marc.

He’ll never admit it to his brother and his friend, but the idea of Mara being his girlfriend is certainly appealing. That first day he mainly saw how beautiful she is and by now he has gotten to know her as a smart girl with a sense of humor. He had barely given it any thought before following her outside today, he just felt bad for her. He had noticed too how everyone keeps talking about her dad, it’s easy to imagine how much that must suck. When he was standing next to her, listening to her talk a mile a minute, he suddenly had her in his arms. It had surprised him maybe even more than it surprised her; he never knew he had the guts to do something like that! It did work though, she calmed down pretty fast and she even hugged him back.

Fen slowly pedals through the street, a fancy lane with lots of trees on each side. Mara had already told him her home wouldn’t be that easy to find. He’s looking for a white house on a low hill, with a green gate and a silver coloured mailbox. This part of the neighbourhood is more forest than residential area, the houses are hidden behind trees and bushes; often there is not much more to see than a high fence and neatly sculpted hedges. 

A few yards in front of him a black car comes speeding out of a driveway, Fen recognises professor Prince his flashy car. A green fence, a metal mailbox, this should be the right place. Fen slips through the open gate and follows the driveway up to the house. The path goes up to the front door and also around the house, presumably to a garage or something. The villa is a contemporary building, a white accumulation of squares with windows from floor to ceiling. 

There’s a scooter parked near the front door, a black box fitted to the back of it. The delivery guy has just rang the doorbell - his helmet shoved up on his head - when Fen puts his bicycle away.

“Hi!” Mara calls out cheerfully when she opens the door, ready to hand the delivery guy some cash. She gestures for Fen to follow her inside the house. He leaves his sports bag by the door and walks after her to the kitchen, where she puts the white plastic bag with food on the counter.

“Nice house,” Fen says, looking around him at the mainly white interior. Everything is sleek and fancy, perfectly matching from floor to ceiling.

“Yeah…” Mara answers slowly, seemingly looking at things for the first time. “Kinda big, too big,” she adds softly. 

She abruptly turns around to the kitchen table and grabs a heavy book that’s on there. Fen is about to take it from her when she suddenly pulls the book back.   
“Will you stay for dinner?”  
The question catches him by surprise and by the looks of it Mara isn’t too sure of herself either. A pink blush creeps up on her face.   
“I mean…” she stammers, “dad had to leave suddenly, Reginald has the day off and I can’t eat all of this by myself. Do you like roti?”

Fen looks from the girl to the plastic bag on the counter. “Only if it’s from Big Momma,” he smirks.

“Of course,” Mara counters with a smile. “Her roti is the best.” 

Fen grins, he had already recognised the logo of the company on the delivery driver’s jacket. Mara grabs some plates and silverware and a few moments later they’re sitting next to each other at the table. They’re chatting about school, their classmates and Fen tells her about the muddy practice of that day. She’s easy to talk to, smiling often and really listening to what he says.

“You forgot something,” Mara says and she lightly taps his eyebrow once with her finger.

Fen swallows a piece of snake bean and feels with his hand above his eye. The bit of tape he uses to cover his piercing is still there.   
“Oh, right, I don’t need that anymore, no.”   
He peels the piece of tape off and leans over the table to throw it away in the now empty plastic bag. When he sits back in his chair Mara is staring at him, almost making him squirm in his seat.   
“What? Is there still something on my face?” 

“Mud,” she answers with a little glee and she wets her thumb in her mouth before she puts it on his face. 

Fen doesn’t move a muscle under her touch, he is enormously aware of the proximity of the girl that brushes some leftover mud from his eyebrow. For a moment there is no other sound in the kitchen than the soft noise of the television.

_ “... break in at the downtown police station in Howemont, last night. The intruders purposefully entered the station in search of the personnel files.” _

“What’s that?” Fen immediately directs his attention at the tv. “Can you turn up the volume, Mara?”

The girl grabs the remote and the sound of the tv fills the room. There’s a female reporter, standing in front of the police station. 

_ “The police are still in the dark about the motif of the break in. Everything points in the direction of Mastermind, though it is unclear why he would target the police station. He has never tampered with local law enforcement before, so we might be dealing with a copycat. The police thinks the perpetrator is on a personal vendetta.” _

Fen frowns at the words of the reporter. A criminal who steals the personnel files of police officers, that’s cause for serious concern! The police are usually doing anything to ensure the privacy of their own, so they can do their job without worrying about possible retaliations by the criminals they put away behind bars. Besides, Fen realises, it’s entirely possible the alter egos of some of the cops are mentioned in their files. Every superhero is employed by the police force, to service the community with their superpowers and still be able to make a living in a normal way. Henry Holt is a great example: he works as a senior police detective, though he patrols the city most of the time in the suit of Lion Heart.

The reporter tells them there are images of security cameras they can show the audience. Fen and Mara watch how a small spider-like robot crawls in front of the lense, before the image distorts and goes to black. 

“My dad won’t be coming home tonight now, he will be way too busy with this,” Fen says, gesturing to the screen. “He’s a cop, you know.”   
His father had been absent at the breakfast table this morning too, although Fen had not thought much of that, it was just something that happened every now and then. 

Mara is quiet, staring at the tv like she has seen a ghost. Fen puts his hand on her arm.   
“Hey, is something wrong?”

Mara suddenly jumps up from the table, shaking his hand off. Her face is flushed, a clear change from the paleness from before.   
“Want to play some Mario Kart?”

She’s already by the door before Fen can react. He quickly puts the dishes in the sink before following Mara to a room at the back of the house.

It’s a big change from the white designer look of the rest of the house. The room has a soft carpet in a warm, dark shade of red and on the walls are framed movie posters; Fen recognises Scar Face, Pulp Fiction and The Usual Suspects alongside some arthouse classics. There’s a large comfortable sofa in the middle of the room, facing a pull down screen against the opposite wall. Beneath the screen is a shelve with some equipment, an old Nintendo sticking out against the high tech sound system. 

Mara grabs a controller and sits on the floor, her back against the couch. Fen follows her example and soon Mara is kicking his ass in Mario Kart. Laughter peels from her lips every time his kart flies from the track on his side of the screen.  
“Stop making fun of me,” Fen chuckles, “not everyone is able to practice this every day like you do.” His words only make Mara laugh harder.   
Usually Fen can hold his own in a racing game, but the little fact that Mara’s arm touches his every time she takes a corner makes him pay attention to her more than to the game. She smells good too, her hair has a coconut scent that he didn’t notice earlier today; she must have showered before he came over.

At the end of the game Mara’s Luigi figure is on the highest step of the winner’s podium, Fen’s character Koopa Troopa didn’t even make it on stage. His phone buzzes in his pocket. The thing has alerted him a couple of times already in the past half hour, maybe it is time to pick up. 

“Fen! Finally!” his mother immediately exclaims. “Where are you?!”

“Uh, at Mara’s house. I sent you a text that I would stay for dinner, didn’t I?”

“That was over an hour ago! I want you to come home right now!”

Fen rolls his eyes at Mara, who listens to the phone call with a slight smile. She can probably hear most of it with the way his mother is shouting.   
“Chill, mom. It’s not that late.”

His mother sighs exasperated. “Can you not just do as I ask for once? Have you seen the news? I want my kids at home.”    
His mom is worried because of the break in at the police station; Theresa Holt isn’t scared that easily, so this must be serious.    
“Fen?” his mother demands, “I want you home within twenty minutes, do you hear me?”

“I hear you, mom. I’ll be right there.” Fen puts his phone back in his pocket. “I have to go, I’m sorry.”

Mara seems put out by that, just like him. “You said your dad is a cop?” she asks.

Fen nods. “He’s a senior detective. There are probably a lot of criminals who would love to get their hands on his personal info, that’s why my mom is so worried.”

“I can understand that,” Mara answers. “But I’m sure it’ll be okay. Mastermind never uses violence against people.”

“How are you so sure it’s Mastermind?” Fen remarks loosely and for the second time that evening Mara blushes scarlet. He has no idea why she’s blushing, though it looks cute on her. 

He gets up from the floor and offers his hand to help Mara up. He purposely doesn’t step back when she gets to her feet, making them end up only inches apart from each other. Fen smirks when he sees how her cheeks heat up even more, secretly happy he’s not prone to blushing himself. 

Fen would love to kiss her right now, but he chickens out and opts to watch the smaller brunette intently instead. 

Her green eyes meet his for a moment, yet she quickly casts her eyes down again.   
“You have to go,” she says quietly, sounding a little regretful. 


	11. Mara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laptops, pins and underground labs.

Mara is still home alone. Earlier this evening she thought she heard a car on the driveway, though nobody entered the house. She’s sitting in the tv room with her laptop on her lap, an old episode of Friends on the movie screen, the audio muted. There’s rock music playing in the room; Mara is streaming the latest album of Hellcats, a band that is featured multiple times among the various patches and buttons on Fen’s jacket.

Fen is probably at home, doing the English assignment with the book he got from Mara. Mara takes a picture of her laptop screen with the Hellcats playlist and sends it to Fen. For the next fifteen minutes she keeps checking her phone, but he doesn’t send a text back. Maybe his phone is off, Mara can’t imagine he would ignore her message. He almost kissed her earlier tonight, she’s sure of it! Butterflies fill her stomach when she thinks about the tall boy that was standing so close to her. 

Suddenly her phone rings, showing an unknown number on the screen.   
“Mara, hi! It’s Vic, Fen’s brother.”

"Uh, hello?” Mara answers awkwardly.

Vic is far from awkward, he cuts right to the case. “Listen, Mara, is Fen with you? He hasn’t come home yet.”

Mara bolts upright on the sofa, her laptop sliding to the floor. “What? No, he’s not here. He went home after his mom called.”

“Are you sure?” Vic presses.

Mara nods feverishly before she remembers he can’t see her through the phone. “Yes, I’m sure. He got on his bike and went home.”

“Shit!” 

She can hear Vic repeat her words to someone else, probably his parents. Then there’s another voice all of a sudden. “Mara, good evening. This is Henry Holt, Fen’s father.”

“Hello sir,” Mara answers timidly. She’s beginning to worry, Fen didn’t come home!

“Can you tell me what time Fen left?”

“I’m not exactly sure, I think around seven.” She can remember hearing the car around eight, yet Fen had been gone for a while by then.

“Okay. Did Fen say anything before he left you?” Henry Holt talks matter of factly, it’s not hard to imagine him in a police uniform.

“No, nothing out of the ordinary,” Mara says slowly, thinking about how she had watched him cycle down the driveway to the street. “He came to borrow a book for an English assignment, he was going to work on that tonight.”

“Okay,” Fen’s father says like he has been taking notes. “Thank you, Mara. Good bye.”

“Wait!” Mara calls out before the police detective can hang up the phone. “Will you let me know when Fen gets home?”

“Fen can do that himself when he gets here. Don’t worry, Mara, I’m sure he’ll turn up soon.”

Don’t worry.  _ Yeah, right. _ Mara stares at the phone in her hand. Fen disappeared somewhere on the route between her house and his home. His father can act like there’s nothing wrong, yet she can’t help but think the police detective would only call her if he was worried about his son. She glances at the clock: it’s been almost three hours since Fen got on his bicycle.  _ What happened? _

Mara grabs her laptop and pauses the Friends episode. In its stead she searches for a local news broadcast and turns on the sound. During the evening hours they play the news on a loop and Mara falls right in the middle of the broadcast. The host reads an item about plans for a new skatepark downtown and then switches to a reporter who cheerfully tells them about the hundredth anniversary of the local netball club. After that they cut to commercials; Mara impatiently waits until the news broadcast starts a new cycle. The host opens the broadcast with news about the break in at the police station, the report that shocked her earlier this evening because she had recognised her father’s new robots.

It suddenly clicks.  _ The personnel files!  _ Her dad stole the personal files of the policemen; files with information about Fen’s father, like his name and home address. Maybe there is some info about his family in there too. Mara can’t think of why her father would need that kind of data and it probably has nothing to do with Fen’s disappearance, yet it still makes her stomach feel weird. 

She grabs her phone and dials her dad’s number. It goes to voicemail and she calls him again. And again. Four times in a row until he finally answers the phone.  
“Mara? Shouldn’t you be in bed? It’s a school night.”

“Where are you, dad?”

“I’m working, why?” Her father’s voice is a bit rushed. “Mara, why are you calling me? Is something the matter?”

“Are you in your lab?” she presses stubbornly. 

There’s a short silence before her father confirms he’s in his lab below the house.   
“But I’m not done yet, it’s gonna take a while.” He takes a breath and his tone of voice is noticeably lighter when he continues. “You should go to bed, honey. You have school in the morning.”

“Okay…” 

Mara pushes the red button to end the call. Her father is home, in his lab beneath the house. Why didn’t he step inside to let her know he was home? When he suddenly left right before dinner he said there was an urgent thing at the Robotix lab, why would he come home and work on it in his own lab?

She pushes her laptop to the side and runs to the back door on her socks. Seconds later she is standing in front of the familiar white sliding doors which don’t budge no matter how many times she hits the button. She presses the little button on the intercom excessively, to no avail. Everything is silent.

Suddenly she notices a small object on the floor, right in front of the sliding doors. It’s a button with the image of a screeching cat, the pin at the back bent in an odd angle. Mara’s fingers clamp down on the button and she starts to pound on the doors as hard as she can.   
“Let me in!” she screams. “Open the doors, damn it!”

The doors slide open all of a sudden and she is confronted with the angry face of her father. “What do you think you’re doing?!” he yells. “They can hear you on the other side of town!”

Mara dives around him and runs down the corridor. “Where is he?” she shouts. “What have you done to him?”

Two strong arms catch her as soon as she sprints through the glass sliding doors at the end of the hall. Reginald traps her against his burgundy spencer vest.   
“Miss Mara, this is no way to behave for a lady. Calm down.”

The butler is a lot stronger than he looks. He pushes her down on a stool and keeps a firm grip on her upper arms. 

“Ow! You’re hurting me!” Mara whines, yet Reginald doesn’t cease his grip.

“Mara, quit your hysterics. You know the deal.” Professor Prince is facing his daughter, his hands balled to fists and his face an angry mask.

“The deal?” Mara screeches. “To hell with your deal! I wanna know where Fen is!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mara rips her arm free from Reginald’s grasp and flings the button at her father. The little thing bounces against his chest and falls to the floor. “Don’t lie, you asshole! What have you done to Fen?!”

That outcry was the last of her strength. Mara bursts into tears and slides from the stool until she’s curled up on the floor of the lab. Her father kidnapped her friend. Her father is a criminal; a criminal who doesn’t only steal things without people getting hurt, but a real one.  _ A ruthless villain. _ Her whole body shakes from grieving, her nerves totally out of control; all her force and willpower from before flow out of her, she can only cry and cry.

Prince eases his arms around his daughter and lifts her up, Mara doesn’t even have the power to protest. He gently sits her down in an office chair and crouches down in front of her. He puts his hands on her legs, she can feel the tension in his fingers where he holds her knee.  
“How do you know Fen?” he asks quietly.

It takes a few seconds before Mara can talk. “He’s in my class,” she sobs. 

Reginald stands silently beside her, offering her a neatly folded handkerchief; her mascara immediately stains the pristine white cotton. 

“And why do you think Fen is here?” Her father’s voice is calm, yet the corner of his mouth twitches in a nervous tell.

“I know you are behind the break in at the police station! I saw your robot spiders on the news. Fen didn’t come home and his button was by the door to your lab.” Mara glares at her father. “I’m not stupid! I know you’re Mastermind. And Fen’s father is…” 

“Lion Heart,” her father interrupts her. He utters the name like it tastes bad, silencing Mara who in her turn had only wanted to say the man was working for the police. 

The name of the superhero in black and yellow is taboo in her family. He’s the hero who couldn’t save her mother almost fourteen years ago; the superhero who failed to stop the bank robbers who ran a red light with their getaway-car and smashed into her mother’s car. Maria Prince was killed immediately; Mara’s mother, who was on her way to the daycare center to pick up her daughter.    
“You know Lion Heart’s identity,” Mara says slowly.

Her father nods. “I gave up on the search a couple of years ago already, until I got a tip on the personnel files of the police three months ago. The data is heavily encrypted, but thanks to that tip I found a way to crack it. This afternoon I finally had access to  _ all  _ of detective Holt’s details.”

So Henry Holt was the failed protector who was responsible for the death of her mother. If he had done his job and stopped the criminals, Maria Prince would’ve still been alive. Then uncle William wouldn’t have been the one who picked Mara up from daycare that day. Her father would not have spiralled down in a severe depression and Mara would’ve been able to live at home, with her father  _ and _ mother. 

There’s a heavy silence in the underground lab, everyone has their own thoughts to mull over. Mara realizes she has talked to Lion Heart on the phone a little while ago, when he sounded like a normal police detective. Like a worried _ father _ .  
“Dad? Where’s Fen? He’s got nothing to do with this.”

Professor Prince straightens out to his full height. “Lion Heart failed to protect my family. It’s time he found out what that feels like!”   
His voice is cold and hard like ice, his knuckles are white where he is gripping the edge of the workbench. 

Then it dawns on Mara, the thought suddenly taking her breath away. Her father wants to take revenge on Lion Heart by hurting his family, his  _ son _ . Anger fills her chest. Fen is her friend - and maybe even more than that. Whatever his father has done, or has failed to do, Fen has been nothing but nice to her. 

“What have you done, dad? Were you waiting for Fen to leave our house tonight?”

There’s a look of surprise. “Here? He was at the house?” 

“Yeah. He came to pick up a book for a school assignment, right after you left,” Mara gives her father a hard stare, crossing her arms in front of her chest.   
“Fen stayed over for dinner and when he didn’t came home his dad called me to ask where he was.” 

For a couple of seconds Prince is staring at her motionlessly. Then he swears loudly and kicks the workbench hard.   
“He was with you?! And you’re telling me this  _ now _ ?!”

“It’s not like I knew you were going to kidnap one of my classmates,” Mara hisses angrily. “Where is he, dad?!”

Her father’s eyes dart to a door at the back of the lab, a small workspace that is mostly used for storage. Mara jumps up from her chair and runs to the door. Locked.  _ Of course _ . All doors in the lab have a digital lock and she doesn’t know any codes. Mara presses her ear against the door. There’s no sound.

“He’s not dead, right?!”

“Of course not,” her father gruffs, coming to stand behind her. “I’m not a killer. He’s only sedated.”

“Open that door!”   
Prince shakes his head. Mara plants her hands in her sides and makes herself as tall as possible. “Xander Prince! Open that door! I want to see what you have done to Fen!”

“Why do you care so much about the welfare of a classmate you’ve barely known for two weeks?” Her father has copied her stance and stern expression.

Mara furrows her eyebrows, trying to ignore the heat that is creeping up from her neck. “Fen is my friend, no matter who his father is. Now open that door!”  
Her father doesn’t budge, no matter how much she stares him down. The cogs in her head are turning at high speed; how will she get Fen out of this?  
“Dad… the police will come here if Fen doesn’t come home. This is where he was seen last. They’re gonna want to question me.”

“And you would rat out your dad?” His toon is sarcastic, though the question is real and tangible in the air.

“Not if you let Fen go right now,” she challenges. 

His hand comes up as if he wants to slap her, making Mara flinch. Yet the impact never comes, Prince is only watching her furiously. 

The butler brakes the silence by clearing his throat. “The young lady is right, sir. The police will come to question Miss Mara. It is my opinion we shouldn’t wait for that.”

“And what do you suggest?” Prince asks through clenched jaws. 

“We leave the boy in a public place, maybe with a message that links the act to an unknown  party,” Reginald says with a neutral expression.

The professor rubs his hands over his face and groans. “I should have known this whole fucking thing was a disaster when we had to wait so long for him to come home from practice!”

“The older boy wasn’t an option, sir. He wasn’t alone.”

Mara’s amazement grows with the second as she listens to the two men before her: Mastermind has an accomplice! Reginald helped with the abduction; if he did this for his boss without even breaking a sweat, it probably isn’t the first time he walked on the wrong side of the law. Mara is suddenly seeing the prim and proper British man in a whole new light.

“Can we open that door now?” She’s getting impatient. “You two can work out however the hell you get him home, I want to see him!”

Finally her father punches in the code to open the door. Mara almost rips the door open, only to freeze when she sees Fen. The boy lies on his side on a blanket in a corner of the small space, facing the wall. 

She shuffles over to him, kneeling down when she reaches her classmate. At first glance he doesn’t seem to be hurt anywhere, it’s like he is sleeping peacefully. His black mohawk that was tied up with an elastic band earlier this evening is hanging in loose strands over his face; Mara gently smooths the hairs out of his eyes.   
“Fen? Can you hear me?” she whispers. “Everything is gonna be alright, you’ll be home soon.” Mara leans down and presses a kiss to his cheek. “ _I am_ _so sorry_.”


	12. Local News




	13. Fen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tv, pink socks with bunnies and Romeo.

“I don’t have a clue, dad! I left Mara, got on my bike and when I was almost home everything suddenly went black.” Fen shrugs, grimacing when pain shoots through his left shoulder. The left side of his body is battered and bruised, probably from the fall from his bicycle. 

His parents and brother are sitting around the hospital bed. His father has spent the last half hour to make Fen remember what happened in every way possible. It’s a lost cause, Fen doesn’t remember a thing. There’s a gaping hole in his memory: one second he was cycling home, the next second he woke up in an ambulance. They found a heavy sedative in his blood, that’s why he is kept in the hospital with an I.V. that pumps fluids in his system. The doctor wants to keep him another night, just to be sure. The police suspect he was shot at with a tranquilizer dart, although the dart itself wasn’t found. To Fen it’s all the same and apart from the bruises and a slight headache, he’s feeling fine.   
“I’d love to tell you more, dad, but everything is black. You’ll really have to do your job with this one.”  
The lame joke falls dead in the room and Fen feels slightly guilty for it when he sees his mom’s face. 

Henry Holt nods slowly. “Unfortunately we don’t have anything to go on. Nothing besides that note to Lion Heart. ‘ _ You have many enemies _ ’ is not really a line that gives us a lead.”

Fen knows his dad is feeling guilty. His son was kidnapped by someone who wanted to take revenge on Lion Heart, his alter ego. The guilt is clear on his face, it’s like he aged at least ten years overnight.    
“I’m not blaming you, dad, you know that, right? This was the work of some nutjob. But it all ended well, I’m still in one piece.”

His father squeezes his hand shortly and nods again. On the other side of the bed is Fen’s mom; she hasn’t let go of his hand all morning. Luckily she is holding the hand that has the I.V. needle in it, so it’s not like he is using that one anyway.

Vic leans over the bed and hands Fen his phone. “Here, fully charged again. It looks like everybody has heard what happened by now.”

The home screen of his phone has blown up with message notifications and missed calls. His classmates and friends have probably seen the news. The Holt family would have prefered to keep his kidnapping from the press, though that proved to be a real challenge when Fen was found unconscious inside city hall, in the middle of the night. It would take a miracle to keep reporters away from that, so of course his little adventure was all over the news by now.   
The real miracle was how he got there. The security tapes didn’t show anything. One moment the large entrance hall was empty, the other moment there was an unconscious boy on the floor, his gym bag and bicycle next to him. The night guard had stumbled upon him during his rounds and called the police.  They did manage to keep Lion Heart out of it. The press is telling the story about the youngest son of police detective Holt, not about Lion Hearts cub. 

Henry Holt stiffly gets up from the plastic hospital chair. “I have to go, the press conference will start any minute.” He walks around the bed and offers a hand to his wife. “Come, honey, you can use some sleep. I’ll drop you off at home, with Vic.”

Fen’s mother shakes her head stubbornly. “No, I’m staying with Fen.”

“It’s okay mom, you can go home and get some sleep. Nothing is gonna happen. Besides, Larry is here to keep an eye on me.” Outside the room is a colleague of his father keeping watch; Fen will be guarded as long as he is in the hospital.

Theresa Holt refuses to leave her son, though Fen is able to convince her to lie down in the empty bed beside his; not five minutes later she is fast asleep. His father takes Vic home and he will go down to the police station after that. 

Fen scrolls through the messages on his phone; they’re all somewhat the same, everybody is shocked by the news and is asking him is he’s all right. The last message is from Harry, from about half an hour ago. He writes that he will come visit him at the hospital when school is done today, together with Mrs. Stewart. He apologizes about that last part, says it’s mostly convenient because she can give him a ride to the hospital. 

There’s also a message from Mara, from last night. It’s a picture, Fen smiles when he recognises the Hellcats album cover on her laptop screen. Vic told him how he called Mara when Fen went missing and his brother also texted Mara last night when Fen was found. 

“I wasn’t gonna keep your girlfriend worrying any longer than necessary,” Fin had teased him this morning. However, besides that picture there are no other messages from Mara. Fen decides that’s a worry for another day and he turns on the tv above his bed, searching the channels until he finds a music channel. 

A little later there’s a knock on the door and Larry puts his head inside. “You have a visitor, Fen. Some girl named Mara?”    
The police officer steps aside to let the girl in and closes the door behind her. Mara stops right inside the room, her hands pushed deep in the pockets of her oversized hoodie and her eyes on the floor.

“Hi! I didn’t expect you! Not this early at least. Harry is not coming until this afternoon, after school.” Fen watches her curiously, why isn’t she coming any closer?

“I didn’t go to school.” The words are barely more than a whisper.

“Come, sit here,” Fen says, gesturing to an empty spot on his bed. He is sitting cross legged on top of the blankets, dressed in the T-shirt and sweatpants his mom brought him.   
“I don’t bite,” he adds jokingly when Mara still doesn’t move an inch. “But be quiet, my mom is asleep.”

Mara’s eyes move from the floor to the bed closest to her, in which Theresa Holt is softly snoring. Then she finally moves and walks to his bed. 

“Hi!” Fen smirks when she stands next to the bed, getting a weak smile in return. “How are you Fen? Oh, I’m all right, thanks for asking!” he says teasingly when Mara still doesn’t say a word.   
Then he notices the tears in her eyes. “Wow, ho! Don’t cry! I was only joking!” He takes Mara’s arm and pulls her next to him on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“I am so sorry!” Mara suddenly sobs and she almost launches herself against him, throwing her arms around his neck. 

Fen doesn’t have a clue what’s going on with the girl as he carefully wraps his arms around her. His knee is pushing awkwardly against her side, so he moves her up and over, to sit between his legs with her legs to one side. They sit like that for a long time, Mara with her face hidden in the crook of his neck.   
He gently smoothes her long hair out of the way so he can see her face. Her cheeks are wet with tears, Fen can taste the salt when he presses a kiss to her cheek.   
“We’re not gonna make a habit out of this, are we? I’d also want to hold you when you’re not crying, you know.”   
She gives him a small push with her head, and he can see the hint of a smile. Fen turns his head to her again, this time pressing a kiss half in her hair. “Good, you can still smile.”

Mara sits up and wipes her tears away with the back of her hand. On the night stand beside the bed is a box with tissues and a few minutes later she has made herself presentable again. Fen doesn’t care, in his eyes the brunette in his arms is beautiful, even with the dark rings under her red eyes. 

“Didn’t sleep?” he asks when she leans back against him. 

She shakes her head. “Not really, no.”

“Have you been worrying so much about me?”

“Something like that,” Mara answers vaguely. She glances to the sleeping woman in the bed a few yards away. “I’ll explain some time later…”  
Mara wraps her arms around his neck again and rubs her nose against his throat, snuggling up against him.

Fen kisses her ear, her cheek, her nose and finally her lips. Her lips are soft and warm and they open willingly when he softly slides his tongue between them. She tastes sweet and the small sound she makes when he catches her bottom lip between his teeth is even sweeter. Fen pulls the girl closer, his hand without the I.V. wrapped around her waist underneath her hoodie. She’s so soft and warm, like no girl’s body he has ever felt before.

They only let go of each other when his mother turns over in her sleep with a groan. Mara giggles and Fen also smiles about the situation they’re in. They settle in against the raised head of the bed, comfortably against the pillows and each other. The plan is to watch tv, although Mara yawns a couple of times and is soon out like a light. With the girl tucked in the crook of his shoulder Fen doesn’t mind being in the hospital at all and he closes his eyes too. 

He wakes up when his mother softly shakes his shoulder. “Who is that?” she whispers urgently, pointing to the sleeping girl that’s curled up against him. Theresa probably just woke up herself.

“Mara,” Fen answers with a satisfied smirk.

His mother shakes her head, rolling her eyes at him. “You better introduce us when she wakes up, Romeo.”

Theresa takes a seat in a chair by the window, grabbing a magazine from the table and Fen has one eye on the tv. Mara took her shoes off when she came to lie next to him; she’s wearing bright pink socks with yellow bunnies, clashing horribly with the salmon pink hospital blanket. With her ripped jeans and oversized hoodie she is dressed for a movie marathon on the couch, not to leave the house. She wears different clothes to school, often a long skirt and a fitted shirt, or a colourful dress. It’s like she didn’t think about her outfit today and only thought about coming to see him. 

Mara wakes up about a half hour later. When she spot Fen’s mother in her chair by the window she immediately jumps from the bed, her face flushed red. Fen chuckles, laughing only harder when Mara glares at him. 

His mom gets up from her chair and holds her hand out to Mara. “Hello Mara, I’m Theresa Holt, Fen’s mom.”

“Hello Mrs. Holt,” Mara says meekly, shaking her hand.

“I take it you also didn’t get much rest last night?”

Mara shakes her head. “No, I couldn’t sleep…” 

“You were not the only one, dear. We were all worried about Fen. Luckily everything turned out all right.”

At that moment the doctor comes in and Mara takes a seat on the empty bed while Fen and his mother talk to the man. The physician is happy with Fen’s vitals.   
“Can I go home today? I feel fine, staying another night will not change that.” 

“I’ll check up on you after dinner tonight. If you’re still feeling well, you can sleep at home tonight,” the doctor answers. “Your I.V. can come out too, I’ll tell the nurse to stop by later.”

His mother squeezes his arm. “That’s good news!”

When the doctor leaves, his next visitor is already waiting by the door. Harrison hurries over and gives his friend a firm hug.   
“Ow! Careful, man!” His protest makes Harry jump back immediately. “Just kidding,” Fen smirks. “You know it takes more than that to take me down.”

“No, it takes a tranquilizer dart, I know that,” Harry responds sassily before sitting down on the other bed next to Mara. “Hi, Mara! Couldn’t stay away from our boy here?”

Fen doesn’t hear Mara’s answer, because the worried face of Mrs. Stewart appears in his line of vision. “You gave us all quite a scare, Mr. Holt! I’m glad to see you’re still in one piece.”

“The things I do to get out of my homework. Think I can get a pass on that Shakespeare assignment now?”

His teacher answers his smirk with a barely hidden smile. “I see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”


	14. Mara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kisses, Calexico and a red car.

Mara takes the books she no longer needs from her bag and stows them away in her locker, throwing her gym shoes in on top. A familiar pair of black army boots comes into her vision.  
“Hey beautiful!”

She stands up from her crouch and fluently moves onto her tippy toes to give Fen a kiss.   
“I just know I’m gonna be sore all over tomorrow because of that stupid bird’s nest they made us do,” she complains. “I spent half the class hanging upside down!”

“I know,” Fen smirks and he winks at her. “I really enjoyed the view.”

Mara makes a face, poking his stomach. “Very funny.”

After the weekend Fen came back to school and together they stand out: the daughter of the famous inventor and the boy who was kidnapped. Even now Mara notices how people are looking at them in the hallway of the school. Some people are blatantly staring, whispering to their friends. Fen acts like he doesn’t notice, he just does what he wants and ignores everybody else. Mara wishes she had more of his confidence. When she was alone she already felt like she was being watched constantly by her peers, yet that has somehow doubled this week. Thank god it’s friday afternoon and she doesn’t have to return to school before monday.

“Will you be coming to watch the game tomorrow?” Fen asks as he puts his own gym shoes away in his locker. Fen’s rugby team is playing a home game.

Mara nods. “Yes, of course. 9:30, right?”

“Yup.” Fen leans back against the lockers and pulls her against him for a kiss. 

Fen is not the first boy Mara has kissed, though with him kissing is taken to a whole other level. His hand is on the side of her neck, his thumb softly caressing her cheek. Mara would almost forget they’re at school. 

“I have to go. Reginald is gonna pick me up,” she says softly when she pulls back from their kiss.

“Reginald. That is such a ridiculous name!” her boyfriend chuckles, loosely holding on to her hands. “Are you sure it’s his real name?”

“You know, that’s something I’ve asked myself too,” Mara smiles. “I bet they get to choose a new name when they finish the butler academy. Like, a proper British name to go along with the stiff upper lip.”

“I bet his real name is Wesley.” 

“Or Tim.” Mara suggests, before tugging at Fen’s hands. “I really have to go now. He’s probably waiting already.”

“Can’t I come with you?”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” This whole week Mara has been wanting to tell Fen what happened, yet she has no idea how to do that. What will Fen say when she tells him it was her dad who kidnapped him? He did something wrong, yet it turned out all right and Mara doesn’t want her dad to go to jail. After all, he’s all she has left.

“Why?” Fen coaxes her chin up with his finger so he can look her in the eyes. He’s always so attentive, always wants to know what’s going on inside her head. It’s very sweet, though this time it’s not so welcome. Mara is much too scared for losing him. What if he doesn’t want to see her again when she tells him?

“I uh…. I haven’t told dad about us yet,” she says evasively.

“Oh? Are you ashamed about us? Your dad doesn’t want you dating a punk kid?”   
Fen squints his eyes, giving her a hard look. Mara bites her lip until he eases his thumb across her lips.   
“Relax, I’m just teasing ya,” Fen says, “I’m sure you have your reasons.”    
He leans in and plants a small kiss on the tip of her nose.

With a sigh Mara falls back against his body, sliding her arms around his waist.   
“I barely saw dad this week. I didn’t get a chance to tell him.”   
That much is true. Ever since that whole drama on wednesday night she hasn’t talked to her dad. She saw him in the house, though they didn’t say more than one sentence to each other. Mara has been having dinner alone or with Reginald. The butler is running the household like nothing ever happened and Mara hasn’t talked to him either about the kidnapping. How do you even go about that?  _ ‘Hey, remember how you and dad kidnapped my boyfriend?’  _ That’s not exactly casual dinner talk.

Normally the tense situation at home would wear her down immensely, yet thanks to the dark-haired boy in her arms the week has gone by at hyperspeed.   
When she got to school on monday Fen was already waiting for her by the lockers, with Harrison at his side. She had not seen him since Mrs. Stewart gave her a ride home from the hospital. Fen’s parents only allowed him to go back to school if he would rest, which meant not having visitors over. 

Mara could not have suspected beforehand how much she would miss him during those days. The insane amount of text messages back and forth only partially compensated for that feeling. So when she saw him at school that morning, she all but jumped in his arms, nearly knocking Harrison over. Luckily Harry wasn’t too offended by that. 

Things got even better when Almera saw them. Because of Fen’s kidnapping the whole embarrassing scene during their Tech Ed. class earlier that day was forgotten and the gossip circles at school didn’t talk about how Fen went after her that afternoon. Almera’s surprise to see them together all of a sudden couldn’t be bigger. Mara chuckles when she thinks back to her friend’s astonished face. 

“What’s so funny?” Fen asks curiously, blowing a strand of hair from her face.

“Nothing,” Mara answers, hugging him a little tighter. “I’m just happy to be with you.”

“Fen! Are you coming? I wanna go to Top Records!” Harry strolls over, an expecting look on his face. “Hey Mara.” 

“Okay.” Fen lets Mara go for a moment, though he takes her hand again when they have all donned their jackets and are walking towards the exit of the school.

Harrison is going on about some vinyl record he wants, when he suddenly changes the subject. “Have you guys heard about that new attack?”

Mara shakes her head. “No, but let me guess… Calexico was at it again?”    
The female supervillain dominated the news in the last couple of weeks. The media were watching her every move, eating it all up. Dressed in tight leather outfits that left nothing to the imagination the woman showed up in random places, preferably where lots of people were gathered. She evoked chaos and confusion and when a superhero showed up to make her stop, she attacked the hero with a good sense for show. 

“She humiliated The Masked Avenger last night. It was totally embarrassing! He couldn’t do shit against her, she even nearly ripped his mask off!” Harry is engrossed in his story, telling it with large movements of his hands, his cane moving with him. 

“She’s just doing it for the show, she’s a slut for fame,” Fen grouses. “Calexico is a big hypocrite though: she wants to unmask superheroes, but she’s wearing a mask too!”

“Only her eyes are covered,” Harry smirks. “Other than that, you can see everything!”

“Oh? So you know who she is? You recognise her by her cleavage? She’s just as anonymous as the rest of ‘m!”    
Fen sounds irritated and Mara can understand why. Calexico wants to bring down the superheroes of the city, preferably with as much of an audience as she can get. Most masked heroes try to stay away from publicity, to protect their identity. Fen’s father probably does the same. 

Not that Harry knows that, he has no idea his friend’s father has a secret alter ego. That’s why he’s not picking up on his friend’s annoyance.   
“I haven’t recognised her yet. Maybe I should take a closer look next time she’s on the news,” the blond boy smirks, bumping Fen’s arm. 

“Would be a first for you,” Fen retords, the annoyance in his voice replaced by a teasing tone. “You know she’s not in a band, right?”

Across the street from the school is Reginald’s little red car waiting. The butler is standing with his back to the school, talking to an elderly man who is walking his dog. Mara lets go of Fen’s hand, secretly glad Reginald hasn’t spotted them yet.    
Hardly seeing her dad this week is not the only reason she hasn’t told him about her new boyfriend yet. Dating the son of Lion Heart, that will not go down easily at home.

“That’s my ride,” Mara says to the boys. “I have to go!” She kisses Fen on his cheek and waves goodbye at Harry, who blows her a kiss with fake theatrical flair. 

“Not so fast, beautiful!” Fen pulls her back and before Mara knows it he dips her in his arm and kisses her in all earnest.  
“ _ Now _ you can go home,” he smirks when he lets her go, her face tomato red. Harrison rolls his eyes at their display of intimacy, though he doesn’t seem to mind that much.

Mara sticks out her tongue and turns back to the street. Her heart skips a beat when she sees Reginald has turned around too; he’s waiting for her with a frown on his face, his arms crossed in front of his chest. She knows this stance, he would look at her like this whenever she did something wrong when she was little.

“Can I drive?” she tries, feigning innocence as she comes up to the car. There’s no answer, the butler sliding behind the wheel as if he hasn’t heard her.

“How long has  _ that _ been going on?” he asks in an icy tone as soon as she has fastened her seatbelt in the passenger seat.

“None of your business.” 

“I beg to differ.” He starts the car, glaring at her from the side. Mara counters his angry stare with one of her own.   
“His father has caused your family a lot of grief because of his negligence. Lion Heart has your mother’s blood on his hands and you’re snogging his son without a care in the world!”

“It’s my life!” Mara shouts angrily. “Fen has got nothing to do with mom’s death.”   
She angrily stares ahead in traffic, holding back from slapping the man behind the wheel. “Besides, stay out of this! You didn’t even know mom!” 

“You’re wrong, young lady,” Reginald says in that voice he uses when he’s greatly disappointed in her less than ladylike qualities.   
“Your mother’s death was a great loss for me too.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about? You only came to work for dad after she died!” 

“I know her from her college days in Cambridge,” Reginald explains curtly. “She was boarding at my parent’s house.”   
The anger in his face dissolves a little, some softness shining through. He’s clearly thinking back to those days. The butler is ten to fifteen years older than her mother, yet Mara can’t help but feel he fancied her mom back in the day.   
“We always kept in touch,” Reginald muses. “I used to work for a colleague of your dad. Your parents met because of me.”

Mara’s anger deflates a little. She can’t stay this angry when she sees the soft look in his eyes. He was really very fond of her mother, she understands that much. “I didn’t know that…”   
Then she crosses her arms, staring angrily out of the window again. “That doesn’t give you the right to interfere with my life. If I want to see Fen, you can’t stop me!”

The little red car drives them home above the speed limit, a rare thing for the butler.

Like Mara expected, Reginald has told her father. He’s suddenly standing in her room, just before dinner. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he thunders as soon as he crosses the threshold. 

Mara turns her desk chair around. “What does it look like? I’m doing my homework. Shouldn’t you be happy about that?”    
Doing her homework now means she has more time for Fen during the weekend. That is, if she has the chance to see him, because her father is furious.

“Reginald saw you with Holt’s kid! Are you really that stupid, Mara?!”

“Says the man who fucking kidnapped him! I’d think stupidity is genetic!”

Prince bangs his fist against the door, startling Mara. “If you were not sixteen years old already, I’d put you over my knee, you brat!”  
Mara keeps quiet. Saying anything will only anger her father more.  
“I don’t want you seeing that kid, Mara! You’ll stay away from him and his family!”

“But…” 

“No but! I’m your father. As long as you’re living under my roof you have to do as I say!”   
The warning finger that is pointed in her direction shakes with anger. “My daughter will not make out with the son of a killer!” 

The professor turns around on his heels and slams the door behind him, leaving Mara petrified.

 

***

 

That evening Mara leaves the house for her usual run. As soon as the house is out of view, she takes her phone and calls Almera. Her friend is quick to answer.  
“Almera? It’s Mara. I need your help. I need an alibi for tomorrow.”   
Mara explains how she needs her friend’s help to be able to leave the house. Almera doesn’t need much incentive to cooperate, she even comes up with some good ideas of her own.

When Mara comes home al sweaty, not even an hour later, her father is sitting on the sofa in the living room. He’s reading something on his tablet, Mara recognises Calexico in a photo with the article. That woman is everywhere.

“Dad?” Mara approaches her father carefully. “Can I go see Almera tomorrow? I’d promised her to go shopping.” 

“You have enough clothes,” Prince grumbles, not looking up from his tablet. 

“Not for me. Her cousin is getting married and Almera needs a new dress. You can’t go dress shopping by yourself. Please, dad, I already promised her to go earlier this week.” Mara moves into her dad’s vision, plastering her most innocent smile on her face.

“Who is that Almera girl?”

“From my class. You’ve seen her, the one wearing the hijab.” 

“The girl who was all dressed in purple?” 

“Yes! That one!”   
When her father stays silent, Mara grabs her phone and looks up Almera’s text messages. “I’m not making this up, dad. Look, she has texted me an hour ago to ask what bus I’m taking into town.”  
The messages were Almera’s idea and Mara makes a mental note of buying her friend lunch, because her father grudgingly gives his consent after he has read the texts. 

“Okay. Don’t let her buy anything purple though. And you’re home before dinner!” 


	15. Local news




End file.
